


Only Time Between Us

by echo_of_words



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Dr. Emile Picani, Background Sleep | Remy Sanders, Bad Parenting, Happy Ending, High School, Implied Past Self-Harm, Multi, Romantic Soulmates, Self-Hatred, Soulmates, Unsympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Unsympathetic Deceit Sanders, background F/F, eventually, remy is a cat in this, roman has issues bc logan is taller than him and that is Not Okay, the original title for this was The Final Countdown, there's gonna be lots of angst so strap in everyone, virgil's mother can fuck off
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-04-24 05:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19166548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echo_of_words/pseuds/echo_of_words
Summary: In a universe where nearly everyone has numbers on their arms, ticking down to the moment when they meet their soulmate, you'd think people would spend all their time watching clocks. But as Roman Prince, Patton Hart, Logan Crofter and Virgil Moore are soon to find out, the truth is that sometimes, you've just got to follow your heart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! I've been looking forward to writing this for a while. It's my first time actually posting my writing, so I hope y'all enjoy!  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of it all.

Roman is sitting in his homeroom classroom, eagerly looking around, trying to catch someone’s eye. Every few seconds, his gaze snaps down to his forearm, where three sets of faintly glowing numbers are ticking down. One of them, the light blue one, is almost down to zero. All around him, people are in a similar state, their clocks, too, having just reached zero. Some of them are talking to each other, some shyly peering at the other person, others excitedly chattering away, others simply sharing a hug to communicate what words cannot. Yet others are, like Roman, searching the room with their eyes, wondering which one of their new classmates might be the one they are destined to be with.

Roman’s excitement is mounting. The clock is nearly done, seconds away from running out. His gaze is flicking around the room, wondering which one of these people it could be, who he’s about to lock eyes with--

The door bangs open. Roman’s head jerks in the direction of the newcomer - a boy with tousled ginger hair, glasses askew, out of breath from running, bag slung over his shoulder, looking around the room--

And as the first set of numbers on Roman’s arm reaches zero, their gazes connect, and Roman knows.

_It’s him._

 

* * *

 

Patton is breathing heavily, feet pounding on the wooden floor of the hall. He’s going to be late, of course he is, _why_ did there have to be a traffic jam on the way to his first day of high school--

He skids to a halt outside a green door with “A01” stamped on it in bold blue lettering. Chest heaving, he slams his hand onto the plastic door handle and nearly trips as he pushes the door open. Right hand gripping the doorframe, the strap of his bag digging into his shoulder, looking all around the classroom he’s just entered. His glasses are nearly falling off his face, having been jostled quite a bit during his frantic dash through the hall, and he can’t see properly, so he hastily tries to straighten them with his free hand. As he does so, his gaze falls onto a boy with wavy brown hair who suddenly seems just as breathless as Patton feels, and as they lock eyes, Patton instinctively knows.

_He’s the one._

 

* * *

 

Logan is sitting at the desk at the very front of his new classroom. Everyone around him is excitedly looking around, but he’s completely uninterested in speaking to the other students. He knows that he will have to interact with them eventually - and, seeing as this is the first day of high school and almost nobody knows each other, their teachers are bound to engage them in all sorts of group activities. “Bonding time”, as people often refer to it.

Personally, Logan thinks that all of these are a waste of time, because while yes, they will be expected to get along with each other for the next four years, he probably won’t talk to them other than for discussions or group projects in classes they happen to share.

Group projects. He mentally shudders. While he usually enjoys school, what for being able to learn new things and widen his perspective of the world, having to work in a group with individuals that are, in his opinion, far too close-minded and shallow to even consider talking to, and on top of that expect him to do all the work simply because he happens to receive exceptionally high grades, is one of the least pleasant things he has had to endure so far. After all, why should he be the only one to make meaningful contributions to the project when the end result will lead to them all receiving the same grade and therefore means they should all be doing equal amounts of work?

He shakes his head, straightens his glasses and returns his attention to the book in his lap. The paperback copy of Douglas Adams’ _Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy_ has been read more times than Logan could keep track of over the years, but it’s still in pristine condition, hardly a page corner out of place. He remembers when he first stumbled upon the book in a library all those years ago, skimming through the shelves in search of a new science-fiction novel to read. The large yellow lettering on the spine had caught his eye, and he had carefully removed the book from its shelf. After devouring the first few chapters, Logan had gone to check the novel out, and he had finished reading it within a day. People often told him he was an uncommonly fast reader, but this had never really registered with him until he sat up at 11pm, finally having finished the book, and realized that he had just read 554 pages without taking a single break. He also realized that he had found a new novel to call his favourite. The very next day, he had gone to buy a copy in a store, and it had been one of his favourite books ever since.

“Uh, hello?” A voice sharply tears Logan out of his reading trance. He looks up into the face of a girl who is now gazing at him with a searching look.

“Are you attempting to find your soulmate?”, Logan asks, a little annoyed to have been interrupted while reading one of his favourite scenes. “Because I can assure you, I am not the one.”

She raises an eyebrow, tilting her head and causing a strand of frizzy hair to fall into her eyes. “And how exactly are you going to prove that to me, huh?”

Logan sighs. Is she really this incompetent? “Well, if I, hypothetically, was your soulmate, your clock would have run out by now, which, evidently, it has not.” He nods to her exposed forearm, on which a row of pastel green numbers that stand out against her dark skin are close to reaching zero.

“...oh.” The girl looks embarrassed. “Right. Well, anyway-” She breaks off, her gaze fixed on a girl with long, blonde hair in a pale blue dress who is sitting at her desk, looking curiously over to them and having just locked eyes with the girl standing next to Logan. Logan’s eyes flick back to her forearm. Zero years, zero days, zero hours, zero minutes, zero seconds.

“ _Oh_ ,” she breathes and leaves Logan sitting alone to dash across the room, nearly knocking over an empty chair in the process. Logan snorts and returns to his book, but he isn’t really focusing on Arthur Dent’s misadventures in space anymore. Instead, his mind has now returned to the topic that he has been stubbornly avoiding thinking about.

Soulmates - a concept that he thoroughly dislikes. Not only is it, in his opinion, ridiculous to expect one pre-determined person to be someone’s “one true love”, but he also hates the fact that there is simply no scientific explanation behind it. He’s researched it countless times, done everything in his power short of actually dissecting body parts in an attempt to find out what soulmates are.

He remembers the time when the numbers first appeared on his own forearm. He was eager as any child was to discover when he would meet his soulmate. His mother had set an alarm for 9:27am - the exact time that he had been born six years prior. His mom was sitting next to him on the living room couch and watching him fidget, barely able to contain his excitement and staring at his left forearm, while Mother was standing next to them with a video camera, reassuring Logan that yes, the alarm really had been set, and no, they definitely wouldn’t miss it.

And just as Mother’s watch started beeping, a purple dot appeared on Logan’s forearm, a stark contrast against his pale skin.

“Look, look, it’s happening!”, Logan squealed excitedly. Mom was smiling, and Mother moved closer to zoom the video recording in on her son’s arm. They watched as the numbers formed in a slightly crooked, spidery script. _08y 301d 22h 10min 4sec_ \- _3sec_ \- _2sec--_

Logan was ecstatic, but to his surprise as much as his mothers’, it didn’t stop there. Right underneath the purple clock that was now ticking down, a light blue dot appeared.

Confused, Logan looked up at Mom with wide eyes. “Mom, what’s happening?”

“I- I don’t know, darling, but look - I think it might be another clock?” She looked at her wife. “Is that even possible?”

“I’m not sure, honey… I don’t think I’ve ever heard of someone with multiple soulmates, but just wait and see.”

Logan was staring at his forearm again, where, in a beautiful sky blue, the messily shaped numbers _08y 310d 2h 43min 34 sec_ had appeared.

“Does this mean I have two soulmates?” he asked uncertainly. But just as Mom was opening her mouth to respond, a red line began to trace a swirly number into his skin. Gaping, Logan watched as a third set of numbers formed - _08y 310d 3h 43min 10sec 59sec_ \- _58sec_ \- _57sec-_ -

There was a pause - they were all waiting to see whether another set of numbers would appear, but after a few seconds had passed without another line appearing, Logan looked up. “M-mom?” he asked, sounding a little afraid. “Mom, what does this mean?”

“I don’t know, sweetie… We’ll go see the soulmate therapist tomorrow and ask them, I’m sure they’ll know,” she responded, squeezing his hand comfortingly, although she didn’t know what to do in this situation any more than her son did.

Logan shakes his head as if to chase away the memories. He doesn’t want to think about this right now; after all, class will be starting soon and he can’t be distracted by distant memories on the very first day of school. Instead, he again buries himself in his book.

Just as he’s about to flip the page, a male voice sounds from the front of the room. “Alright, everyone, I know a lot of you are excited about meeting your soulmates, but our time together is limited, and I’d like to talk to you about a few things before school begins.”

Logan looks up and sees that the teacher, a relatively short bearded man who was previously sitting at the desk at the front of the classroom, has gotten up and is now addressing the class. He carefully takes the bookmark from its previous place and places it in the book to mark his current page, then snaps it closed and carefully stows it in his bag. Meanwhile, the rest of the class has quietened down and as Logan throws a glance over his shoulder, he sees that everyone has found a seat. He notices the girl who he had a verbal exchange with earlier is now sitting at the desk next to her soulmate, who is looking at the girl with a fond expression.

Logan suppresses a snort and returns his attention to the teacher. How can people like someone this much when they’ve only just met?

“Alright, well, let’s get the important stuff out of the way first - welcome to Greenfield High School!” the teacher begins brightly. “I’m your homeroom teacher, Mr Pierce. Here at Greenfield, we believe in letting students explore their intelligence themselves, and we like to think that we teachers are only helping you on your path to greatness.”

Logan raises a sceptical eyebrow. Greatness? Surely he doesn’t think that every single person at this school is capable of achieving something that will change the world?

“That is part of the reason why we sent out emails to your parents on our automated mail system, asking them to help you students choose two of our wide range of elective courses, and send in your selections by August 28th. You will have two periods of each elective course per week…” Logan starts to zone out as the teacher continues talking about the class system at the school, droning on and on about different subjects and their distribution across the week. He already knows all of this, having read through the school’s website thoroughly the week before.

“Well, I’ve got your timetables here, kids, so I’ll be handing them out now!” Logan is returned to reality with a jerk as Mr Pierce exclaims loudly. He grabs a pile of paper and hesitates. “You know what, seeing as I don’t know all of your names yet, I’ll just stand here and read off your names, and you can come out and get them!” he says brightly, as though this is a genius idea. Logan rolls his eyes. Why does his homeroom teacher already seem so glaringly incompetent?

“Abbey, Jessica,” Mr Pierce reads out the name on the first sheet of paper. A girl with curly brown hair scurries past Logan as she goes to collect her timetable. She nearly knocks into him on her way back to her desk.

“Baker, Harry.” A boy quietly walks up to the front and takes his timetable.

“Crofter, Logan.” Logan quickly gets up and steps around his desk to stand in front of Mr Pierce, who hands him his timetable with a smile, though he has to look upwards to do so, as Logan is rather tall. He takes the sheet of paper and skims through it quickly as he sits back down and the teacher continues handing out timetables. His first lesson on Mondays is Global History II, beginning at 7:50. Logan glances at his digital watch - 7:44. He looks back at his timetable, which says homeroom ends at 7:45.

He raises his hand. Mr Pierce, who is just handing another timetable to the girl Logan talked to earlier, nods at him. “Logan, right?”

“That is my name, yes. Sir, will we be required to go to class when the bell rings?”

Mr Pierce smiles. “Yes, Logan, the students that already have their timetables can go to their classrooms when-” He breaks off as a loud _bong_ issues from the speaker hanging near the ceiling in the left corner at the front of the classroom. “There it goes. For anyone who isn’t sure how to get to their classroom, there’s a map of the school layout printed on the back of your timetables.”

Logan flips his sheet of paper over. Indeed, a map of lines and rectangles indicates the layout of the three school buildings. One is labeled A, which Logan concludes must be the one they are in, seeing as the door he entered the room through twenty-five minutes previously was embossed A02. A small footnote on the map explains that the room numbers are coded after the building and the floor the room is on.

Logan checks the front of his timetable again. Global History II is in room A307, which he assumes is on the third floor of the building he is currently in. He gets up, grabs his bag and slings it over his shoulder. He strides over to the door of the room. The other students seem reluctant to have to go to class already, but he’s determined to make a good first impression on his teacher, so he quickly directs his steps along the hall to join the mob of students already walking up the many flights of staircases to his first classroom.

 

* * *

 

“Virgil Moore.” Virgil’s head jerks up at the sound of his name, the hood of his hoodie nearly falling down. He quickly jerks it back over his head and looks to the front of the classroom. Mr Pierce is looking around, looking for the student whose timetable he’s currently holding.

Virgil reluctantly gets up and walks to the front of the classroom, determinedly staring at the floor. He takes the sheet of paper without looking up at the teacher and returns to his desk while scanning the timetable quickly. His first lesson is English I, in room A101. Fuck, he has no idea where to go. He doesn’t even want to go to class, but he doesn’t want to fail either. After all, getting bad grades would mean he’s useless and stupid and-- and he’s got other things to worry about right now, so that can wait.

Virgil sighs and picks up his backpack, which he slings over one shoulder. Timetable still in hand, he quickly walks to the door and exits the classroom. Now, along with trying to figure out which direction his class is in, he has to deal with not bumping into the ridiculous amount of people already walking through the halls. Fun.

He glances down at the sheet of paper in his hand and flips it to study the map printed on the back. To get to his classroom, he needs to go the direction from which he came earlier, then go up the staircase and enter the corridor above. Simple enough, right? Virgil sighs again and starts walking-- or rather, dodging the people walking in the other direction while also trying to move forward. He isn’t used to this many people because his middle school was rather small, but apparently, he’ll have to get used to this. Great.

 

* * *

 

“Sorry, Roman, I have to go this way,” Patton says reluctantly as they climb up the final step.

Roman’s face falls.  “When will I see you again?”

“Well, kiddo, if we don’t happen to share any classes, I’m sure we can meet up during breaktime! Oh, and we can eat lunch together!” he adds excitedly. He really doesn’t want to have to stop talking to his new-found soulmate, but he cheers himself up with the thought that maybe he’ll make some new friends in his English class.

Patton’s about to start walking towards the glass door that separates the staircases from the corridors, but-- “Wait.” Roman suddenly grabs his arm and pulls him to the side out of the way of the throng of students, making Patton let out a small yelp of surprise.

“Here.” Roman whips a marker out from the side pocket of his bag, grabs Patton’s hand in his own and messily writes a string of numbers on Patton’s skin.

Curious, Patton pulls his hand back and examines the red marker. “Is this your phone number?”

“Yep,” Roman says, popping the “p”. “Now you can just text me or something, so we can meet up! After all, how else would we ever find each other with this many people running around?”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Patton says sheepishly. “I hadn’t even thought about that. Thanks, I guess”

“No problem, padre.” Roman hesitates for a second, then smiles at him. “Well, until we meet again!” He shifts the strap of his bag a little and vanishes into the crowd of people that are climbing the staircase.

Patton stands there for a second, feelings whirling around inside him, before walking towards the glass doors to his English classroom.

 

* * *

 

Roman’s thoughts are whirling as he continues climbing the staircase. Why is he feeling so fluttery? He just gave Patton his number, it’s not like that’s a grand romantic gesture--

Well, he did _almost_ kiss Patton’s hand, but he decided against it at the last second, thinking it would have been too over-the-top, but looking back, he isn’t so sure. Should he have done it after all? What if Patton doesn’t even like him, and he’s just entertaining him because they’re soulmates?

 _Shut up, Roman_ , he tells himself. _You’re overthinking things. Everything’s perfectly okay. Patton probably likes you just fine. And you still have two other soulmates to get to know!_

He looks down at his arm again. The light blue clock, which is at the top, now reads _0y 0d 0h 0m 0sec_ , but the other two are still ticking down. _You’ll meet them soon enough, after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi on tumblr! @echo-of-words


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton and Roman meet somebody new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Thanks for all the positive feedback on the last chapter - I hope you enjoy this one just as much!  
> Also, thanks to my beta @thomas-slammders on tumblr, she really helped me out!
> 
> Warnings: mentions of bullying in this chapter

“Mrrrow.”

“Go away,” Virgil mutters and turns his face away.

“ _Mrrrrrrrow._ ” A paw connects with his face.

“Alright, alright, I’m getting up.” He sighs and pushes the covers off himself. His cat, Remy, is sitting next to his pillow and loudly complaining about something.

Virgil checks the time on his digital alarm clock and groans. “Shit, Remy, of all the times you could have woken me up, did it have to be at the asscrack of dawn?”

“Mrrow.”

He sighs again. “If you say so. Alright, what is it this time? Food again? Or do you want out?”

“Mrrow.”

“Okay, food it is. Come on.” He walks out of the room and down the stairs, Remy following close behind him. He enters the kitchen, flips the light switch, and opens the cupboard with cat food. “Now, Remy, chicken or beef?”

“Mrrow.”

“Alright, chicken then.” He grabs the pouch, opens it, and empties half of the contents into the cat’s food dish. “There you go.”

As he goes over to the sink to deposit the half-full pouch and wash the jelly off his fingers, he hears the telltale purring and sounds of Remy eating, with the occasional _crunch_ as the cat cracks a pellet of dry food between his teeth.

Fingers clean, he dries them on the towel hanging on the wall and returns to the cat, who is still devouring the food. “Wow, you really were hungry, huh?” He strokes Remy’s black fur and scratches his ears.

Sometimes, Virgil feels self-conscious about talking to his cat like this. After all, it’s not like he can answer. But it just feels nice being able to talk to someone without having to worry about being judged or finding the right answer for something the other person said.

Cats don’t judge you for being socially awkward.

He sighs and checks the clock again. 5:30am. Too late to attempt going back to sleep, but too early to start getting ready for school. Well, he supposes he could get there early and review his notes for his lessons before school starts, but he’s not a nerd, so instead he just heads back upstairs to grab his phone and scroll through Tumblr for half an hour. Curse this cat for having such an annoying sleep schedule.

 

* * *

 

 “Roman, wait up!” Roman turns around as he hears the already familiar voice calling his name. He can’t help but smile as Patton rushes across the courtyard towards him, coming to a sudden halt-- and promptly tripping over his own feet. He yelps as he falls towards the concrete, but Roman quickly swoops in and catches him before he can hit the ground. “You’ve got to slow down,” Roman says, shaking his head and barely hiding an amused grin as he sets Patton back on his feet. “I mean, I’m glad to see you too, but you could have injured yourself!”

“Um, yeah. Thanks, Roman,” Patton says, blushing and rubbing the back of his neck. “I was just excited, ya know? Today’s supposed to be the day we meet another one of our soulmates!” He beams up at him.

“Yeah, it is!” Roman’s excitement, which was temporarily distracted by Patton’s arrival, is now returning. “I wonder what they’ll be like?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure whatever they’re like, I’m going to love them!” Patton gives a little excited hop and starts making his way towards the school building. Roman smiles and glances down at his forearm as he follows him. _0y 0d 5h 31min 6sec_ \- _5sec_ \- _4sec_ \--

He’s probably checked his timetable a hundred times, figuring out the exact time he’s going to meet his second soulmate - some time during his and Patton’s lunch period. The day they’d met, Roman spent the entire first period worrying about not sharing a lunch period with Patton, but thankfully, Patton remembered to text him, and they quickly figured out that they do, in fact, have lunch together.

Over the course of the week and two days that have passed since the first day of school, he and Patton have gotten to know each other rather well - surprisingly so, seeing as they’d never met before. However, the fact that they’re soulmates means that they just seem to click, and even though it’s only been such a short time, Roman would probably trust Patton with his life.

“Hey, Roman?” Patton’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts as they enter building A and cross the atrium.

“What’s up?” he asks, turning to look at him.

“Why did the girl sit on her watch?”

“I don’t know, Patton, why?” Sensing a joke coming on, Roman tries hard to keep his expression neutral, so as to not ruin the moment.

“Because she wanted to be _on time_!” Patton’s face splits into a grin as he watches Roman’s expression change from bemused to exasperated, although he fails to hide his amusement.

“Good one,” he admits grudgingly, smiling.

Patton beams as they arrive at the door of their homeroom classroom. Roman steps to the side, allowing Patton to enter first and then following close behind him. As they step over the threshold, he notices that the classroom is still relatively empty, with only a few students already there.

“Morning, Mr Brown!” Patton greets the teacher, who looks up at them and nods. “Good morning, boys.”

The two of them walk to their respective desks and sit down. Roman checks the time and sees that they’re a few minutes early, so they still have some time before homeroom starts.

He sighs. He’s really not in the mood for class today, and the new regime of high school is tiring him out.

He looks back down at his forearm. _0y 0d 5h 28min 57sec_ \- _56sec_ \- _55sec_ \--

Well, at least he has _something_ to look forward to today.

 

* * *

 

Logan sighs and leans back in his seat. He’s in the middle of reading over the notes he’s accumulated over the short amount of time he’s been at this school in an attempt to refresh the information in his mind, but he just can’t seem to focus today.

He wonders what the reason for this could be. Is he ill? No, he shouldn’t be. He’s been perfectly fine recently, and he doesn’t have any medical conditions or allergies that could be flaring up. And it’s only September, so the warm Florida climate couldn’t possibly have inflicted a cold on him - could it? Maybe there’s some rare ways of coming down with a cold that he doesn’t know of yet. He’ll have to research it when he gets home.

He turns around in his chair and lets his gaze sweep the classroom. The majority of students is already there. Most of them are talking to each other, but some, like him, are sitting alone.

He lingers on the girl he talked to on the first day of school - Daniella, as he vaguely recalls her name. Normally, he doesn’t make a habit out of learning his classmates’ names, as they are of no importance to him, but a group activity their Physics teacher engaged them in on the first day that involved memorising people’s names and something associated with their personality has implemented her name into Logan’s memory reasonably well - a feat that, he reflects, the activity _was_ supposed to achieve.

His gaze flicks over to the girl sitting beside Daniella, whose name he still doesn’t know. She brushes her long, blonde hair out of her eyes and laughs at something her soulmate just said.

Logan notices they’re holding hands.

He averts his eyes and notices movement in the corner of his vision. His gaze flicks to the back right corner of the classroom, where a boy in a black-and-purple hoodie is hunched over a piece of paper on his desk. Curious, Logan watches as he grabs a pen, scribbles something, pauses, then scrunches up the paper into a ball and shoves it into his pocket before pulling a new piece out of his bag, smoothing it out on the table and beginning to write once more.

Logan jumps slightly as a loud _bong_ issues from the speakers near the ceiling. The boy in the hoodie also jumps, though a lot harder than Logan, causing his hood to fall off. He hastily yanks the material back over his purple bangs, looking around the room and catching Logan’s eye. Met by the boy’s accusing glare, Logan quickly redirects his attention to the front. He keeps forgetting that although he likes to observe people’s behaviour, they don’t always take kindly to being watched.

“Good morning, class!” Mr Pierce, who has gotten to his feet, greets them. “Well, today we don’t have anything special planned, but…”

Logan feels his attention drifting off already. He tries to listen, he really does, but homeroom is never interesting to him, and the teacher’s cheery attitude towards anything and everything doesn’t exactly help.

He looks down and adjusts the sleeves of his shirt. Despite the warm weather, he still prefers to wear long sleeves - mainly so he doesn’t get asked questions about the presence of multiple sets of numbers on his forearm.

This is yet another thing that bothers him about soulmates - there’s never been an explanation for him having multiple clocks. He’s scoured the internet, asked the soulmate therapist his mothers used to take him to when he was younger countless questions, read through the local library’s entire soulmate section twice, but never once found anything relating to him apparently having three soulmates. The closest thing he’s found was a news article from a few years ago about a girl who claimed to have two clocks, but was later found out to have painted the second one shown in the photos she posted online herself in order to gain attention.

Logan sighs. He wouldn’t have such a problem with soulmates - heck, he might even look forward to meeting his - if it weren’t for the stigma surrounding them. People talk about meeting their soulmates as if it’s a marriage proposal, and - apparently - in some cases it actually is.

Personally, Logan thinks the whole thing is ridiculous. Yes, it may be true that there is a person - or, in his case, people - out there who someone is destined to be with, who is better equipped for a relationship - be it platonic or romantic - with them than anyone else, but at the same time, he finds it ridiculous that some people instantly become best friends or even enter a romantic relationship with their soulmate before even getting to know them properly. After all, they _are_ still basically a stranger, and liking somebody just because they’re “bound by fate” - or whatever the expression is - is, in his opinion, both extremely shallow and disrespectful of the fact that one’s soulmate _is_ actually another person and not just a hypothetical “perfect match”.

Adding on to his lack of concentration, there’s now a strange tingly feeling in Logan’s gut that he can’t seem to shake. He should probably ask Mom when he gets home. Having a medical professional for a parent really comes in handy in these kind of situations.

 

* * *

 

 

As Patton enters the cafeteria, he immediately makes for one of the tables near the back right corner, where he and Roman usually sit. Currently, it’s still empty, but the lunch hour did only just start, and Roman has Drama right beforehand, so he usually takes a bit longer to finish up.

Patton sits down and drops his bag next to his chair. He likes to sit with his back to the wall so he can watch the other students milling about. There’s already a long line at the food counter, but he doesn’t join them yet, as he and Roman like to eat together and he doesn’t want to already be half done with his food when the other finally arrives.

Instead, Patton watches as more and more students file into the cafeteria. The background noise of chatter and laughter grows louder, and the air becomes warmer and stuffier as the space gets more and more cramped - Patton’s only glad that nobody’s decided to make him give up his table yet. He knows it is a possibility though - after all, it’s happened before.

He shakes his head as memories of middle school flood his head, how taking his table at lunch is probably the least horrible thing someone’s ever done to him--

 _Stop, Patton_ , he reprimands himself. _Not today._

He looks down at his forearm to distract himself. Underneath the now run-out red swirly clock, the dark blue one in neat, orderly handwriting is ticking down, having almost reached zero. _0y 0d 0h 7min 5sec_ \- _4sec_ \- _3sec_ \--

Right! He’d almost forgotten about that - he and Roman are going to be meeting their second soulmate today!

Bad feelings vanishing in an instant, Patton looks eagerly around the cafeteria. Is the person already here? Are they sitting at the table right next to him, laughing and chatting with friends? Or are they in the queue to get food from the grumpy-looking lunch ladies? Or--

“Patton!” Startled, Patton’s jerked back to reality as Roman arrives at the table and lets his bag fall onto a chair before sitting down across from him.

“Hey, Roman!” Patton greets him happily. “How was Drama?”

“It went well! We voted on what play the freshman class will be performing this year. Personally, I hope it’s Heathers. I mean, yeah, the other options were pretty good as well, but I’ve always wanted to play J.D., and my middle school drama teacher didn’t think Heathers was appropriate to perform in front of sixth graders, which, fair, but still! I mean--”

Patton smiles as Roman continues to rant about the different musicals which he’s always wanted to be in, and how “being in middle school just _ruins_ all the options, because the teachers never let you do anything interesting, it’s just Shakespeare over and over again, which of course is great, but it does get boring after a while, and--”

Patton’s stomach rumbles. He leans to the side to peer around Roman’s broad-shouldered form and sees that the queue is now considerably shorter, seeing as most students have gotten their food and are already eating. Roman follows his gaze and seems to catch on. “Come on, let’s get some food.”

They get up, pick up a serving of lasagna each, and return to their table. All the while, they’re both searching the cafeteria with their eyes, wondering who their soulmate might be.

As he picks up his fork to begin eating, Patton looks at the set of numbers giving off a faint navy glow again. _0y 0d 0h 0min 26sec_ \- _25sec_ \- _24sec_ \--

Excitement is bubbling inside him. _Any moment now!_

 

* * *

 

Logan is doing his best to balance everything he’s carrying, but it’s proving a lot harder than he originally thought it was going to be. He has his rather heavy backpack on his back, his gym bag is dangling off his left arm, and he’s trying to keep the food tray in his hands steady as the glass of water next to his plate slides around, threatening to fall to the floor.

He’s just passing a table, nearly at the table in the corner he’s aiming for, when he feels his foot connect with something in his path. He tries to keep steady, but it’s too late. With an undignified yelp, he trips over someone’s schoolbag and before he can stop himself, he’s headed face-first towards the ground. Desperate to stop himself from face-planting on the wooden floor, he throws out a hand, having already given up on the food tray. With a thud, a clatter of the fork spinning away on the ground and the sound of shattering glass as the glass of water he was trying so hard to keep on the tray hits the ground and smashes, he lands. As he does so, all the breath is knocked out of him and his glasses fall to the ground. Pain shoots up his arm - he must have landed awkwardly - but he’s too focused on finding his glasses, fearing the worst could have happened to them.

“Hey, kiddo, you all right?” a voice asks from above. Dimly, Logan registers that the two people at the table next to him have jumped to their feet. One of them, the one who just spoke, is leaning down to him. The other has found Logan’s glasses and hands them to him. “There, these belong to you. You okay?”

Ignoring the questions momentarily, Logan grabs his glasses and shoves them back onto his face. By some miracle, the glass hasn’t cracked, and so he can see clearly as he looks back up at the two boys, who are both wearing worried expressions.

“I...yes, I do not believe I have sustained any lasting injuries. May I ask why your bag was placed in such a hazardous spot?” As he speaks, he gingerly gets to his feet and looks around for his things. His backpack and gym bag are both a few feet away, but as he makes to collect them, the taller of the two boys quickly darts over and picks them up. “Here, I owe you this, at least. I really didn’t mean to trip you up, I didn’t think that was going to happen, I’ll help you pick all this up, I--”

“Roman,” the other boy says quietly, sounding almost awed.

“What?” The tall one - Roman, apparently - seems completely nonplussed.

“Look at your arm.”

“My--oh.” He stops abruptly as his gaze falls on his forearm, where everyone has their soulmate clocks. “ _Oh._ ”

“What is going on?” Logan asks, confused. “Is there a problem?” He moves forward to look at Roman’s arm, where - he realizes with a jolt - there are three sets of numbers. Two of them have already run out, with the third one still ticking down, but more importantly, Logan _recognizes_ the sky-blue and purple handwriting.

After all, although he barely looks at them anymore, he knows that the clocks on his arm - apart from the time displayed by the numbers - look exactly the same.

“You’re our soulmate!” the shorter boy squeals excitedly. “Roman, it’s him! Or-- wait, am I misgendering you? Sorry, I--”

“No, you’re okay, I use he/him pronouns,” Logan says faintly. “But are-- are you sure you haven’t confused me with anyone?”

Bewildered, the boy looks at him. “Yeah, of course I am! Roman and I’s clocks just ran out when we made eye contact with you because you fell over, so… wait, is this a surprise to you? Shouldn’t you already know, from your own clocks?”

“I-- well, I--” Logan coughs. “I don’t exactly… pay much attention to them.”

“What? Why would you do that?” The boy looks confused and a little hurt. “Weren’t you looking forward to meeting us?”

“Well, I--” Logan has no idea how he’s going to explain all of this, especially since he’s only just met these two people and doesn’t even know both of their names yet, but--

“Boys!” An annoyed voice issues from behind Logan and he spins around on his heel to see one of the lunch ladies shaking her raised finger at them. “You clean this mess up this instant! Teenagers these days, always causing chaos, not even bothering to wipe up the water they’ve just spilled all over the floor…” Muttering to herself, she moves away, back in the direction of the counter where she’s supposed to be serving students their food.

“Oh, yeah. Right. Don’t worry, it’s on me,” Roman says quickly, but Logan hastily steps up. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll do it, I--”

“No, both of you,” Patton says firmly. “We’re cleaning this up together, that’s the quickest way to do it. Then we can talk!” He quickly runs off towards the toilets, presumably to gather paper towels. Roman shrugs. “Alright, but we definitely have to talk!” He swiftly follows Patton.

A little shaken, Logan is left standing there by himself. He resigns himself to spending the whole lunch break with these two people. He has to admit, he was a little shocked at first, but the identical clocks on his and Roman’s arms more than prove that they haven’t made a mistake, so he supposes he’ll just have to hope they don’t expect him to instantly become best friends with them.

He sighs and crouches down to collect the pieces of broken glass. He’ll just have to wait and see.

 

* * *

 

"So yes, that is the reason I do not like to look at my clocks,” Logan finishes, hand unconsciously flying up to adjust his glasses. He looks up to see the expressions of his newfound soulmates. Patton’s mouth is slightly hanging open, while Roman looks both intrigued and a little guilty.

Roman is the first to speak. “That...actually kinda makes sense. Why you wouldn’t like the concept of soulmates, I mean. I never saw it that way, but I guess, in a way, you’re right. We shouldn’t expect you to immediately like us, that’s not how it works in other relationships either. Maybe it’ll be better if we just...ignore the whole soulmate thing for now, and focus on getting to know each other?”

Patton nods vigorously, causing his hair to flap and his glasses to slightly slide down his nose. He pushes them back up and says: “Roman’s right! I’m sorry if we made you feel bad.”

“It’s...it’s quite alright, Patton,” Logan says, a little flustered by their reactions. He was half expecting them to shun him and be disappointed, but he’s immensely glad they aren’t doing so.

“So, now there’s us three, and one soulmate yet to come!” Roman declares happily. “Logan, what does your clock say about when you’ll meet?”

Logan pulls his sleeve up to check-- and freezes. “Ah. There seems to be a problem.”

“What’s that?” Patton asks curiously and cranes his neck to catch a glimpse at Logan’s forearm across the table. Logan lays his arm down on the polished surface so the other two can see - all three of his clocks are already displaying _0y 0d 0h 0min 0sec._

“Wait, you’ve already met them?” Patton asks incredulously. “Who are they? What are they like? Why didn’t you tell us? What--”

“Patton, let him talk,” Roman cuts him off, but joins him in giving Logan a questioning look. “What does this mean?”

“Evidently, I have already come across our third soulmate,” Logan mutters, more to himself than to the other two, gaze fixed on his forearm. “But I haven’t spoken to anyone since the first day of school, and since that mixup on the first day of school, nobody has approached me about me being their soulmate except you two. I must have made eye contact with them without noticing. This...certainly changes things.”

He looks up at Roman and Patton. “What about your clocks? What do they display?”

Patton looks down. “Zero years, nine days, three hours, ten minutes, six seconds,” he reads off the numbers on his arm. “So...next week on Friday?”

“Mine says zero years, five days, twenty-two hours, five minutes, forty seconds,” Roman chimes in. “So...uh...Monday? No, Tuesday. Is it?”

Logan leans over to peer at their arms. “Yes, it appears so.”

“So, I suppose we’ll just have to rely on Patton’s and my clocks to find him, then,” Roman muses.

“Don’t assume their gender, Roman, it could be a girl too! Or they could be non-binary!” Patton says quickly.

“Well, considering that soulmates are usually a romantic thing, that’s not very likely,” Roman says, shrugging. “I’m about as gay as you can get. _But,_ ” he adds hastily, catching sight of the look on Logan’s face, “seeing as we just had a conversation about not assuming things, and soulmates sometimes being platonic, I’ll keep using gender-neutral pronouns until we know their pronouns for sure.”

Logan sighs. _At least he’s trying_ , he reminds himself. And Roman seems like the type of person who takes soulmates very seriously, so he’s bound to have _some_ stereotypes implemented in his mind.

Patton starts suddenly, as if he’s just remembered something. “Logan! Important question!”

“What is it?” Logan asks, a little apprehensive of Patton’s enthusiasm.

“What’s your favourite animal? And your favourite colour? We have so much to talk about!” Patton’s voice is practically bubbling with excitement. “Oh, and we’ll have to exchange phone numbers! And--”

Logan sighs and leans back in his chair, but he can’t suppress the small smile that rises to his face as he listens to Patton rambling about the things they can do to get to know each other, while Roman looks on with both amusement and affection for his soulmate’s enthusiasm.

Maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi on tumblr! @echo-of-words


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman, Patton and Logan get to know each other better, and Virgil thinks about some stuff.
> 
> Warnings: self-hatred, bad parenting, Deceit mention, Remus mention, implied past self-harm (but only very briefly mentioned)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! I know, it's been a while, but thanks to everyone who's decided to stick around! I hope I'll get around to updating more often soon. Also, I have a couple of interesting WIPs that I might get around to posting soon, so stay tuned!
> 
> Thanks to @thomas-slammders for beta-ing this chapter!
> 
> \- Megan

Roman's jogging along the street, earbuds in, listening to an upbeat song Patton recommended to him a few days ago. He wasn't surprised to find out that this is the kind of music Patton likes to listen to - after all, he's one of the most upbeat people Roman knows, and this kind of music suits him perfectly.

Roman turns a corner and jogs towards the entrance of Rose Park. He can see Logan standing at the gate, wearing his usual black jeans, but having switched the button-down and tie for a more casual-looking T-shirt. He's typing something on his phone and occasionally looking around, probably to see whether the other two are arriving yet. He spots Roman and raises a hand in greeting as Roman comes to a halt next to him, breathing a little more heavily than usual because of the exercise.

"Hi, Logan!" Roman says cheerfully. "How's your day been so far?"

"It has been adequate." Logan adjusts his glasses. "However, I hope that this outing will improve it significantly."

Roman smiles at him. "Yeah, I hope so too! Have you seen Patton yet?"

"No, I have not." He checks his watch. "He is four minutes late. I suppose that is still a reasonable amount of time..."

Roman is about to reply when he hears a bark behind him. He spins on his heel to see a fluffy brown dog running towards him, dragging Patton on a lead behind it.

"Hi, Chewbarka!" he greets the dog with enthusiasm as it jumps up at him, sniffing eagerly. "Yeah, hey! Haven't seen you in two days! You miss me? Awww." He scratches behind her ears. "Oh, and hi, Patton," he says, grinning at him.

Patton glares playfully at him. "What, is she already more important than me? Sorry about this, my mom kinda forced me to bring her along. I just hope she won't be  _dogging_  us the whole time!"

Roman snorts. "I'm more worried about your jokes."

"Oh, did you not like that one?" Patton grins. "I'm  _paw_ -sitive you'll enjoy the next one, though!"

Logan groans. "Can we please proceed before he thinks of any more puns?"

"That's im- _paw_ -ssible! I'll be thinking of them  _fur_ -ever!"

Logan rolls his eyes while Roman hides a smirk. "I don't think you can escape him," he warns. " _Or_  make him stop."

Logan sighs. "I will suffer in silence, then. Also, did I mishear that, or is your dog named  _Chewbarka_?"

 

* * *

 

 

They walk around the park, discussing mostly mundane things. Patton's let Chewbarka off her lead and she's bounding around, sniffing seemingly every single tree they pass. As they talk, Logan reveals he's always had a passion for astronomy - something that Patton thinks fits him very well. Roman goes on a long-winded rant on his love of Disney, with Logan and Patton both making small comments about their favourite movies when they come up, and eventually, conversation cycles back around to Chewbarka, and Patton tells them how she got her name.

"See, my mom's always really loved Star Wars," he explains. "So she introduced me to it really early, and I had a phase around first or second grade where I was really into it. And then we got a dog, and she's a cockapoo, so she already looked like Chewbacca, and then I suggested that as a name, and my mom liked it so much she let me use it. So now she's Chewbarka."

Logan looks a little exasperated, while Roman's grinning. "That's such a  _Patton_  thing to do. Also, I like your mom already."

"You do? If I tell her that, she'll force me to bring you home for lunch after school tomorrow. She's already demanding to have both of you round since I met you, but I told her I wanted to wait until we'd met our third soulmate. She didn't like it - she's very impatient -, but I managed to convince her."

Roman laughs. "Well, according to the clocks, she'll be able to make you invite everyone by next weekend! And the clocks don't lie."

"Unless your meeting with them is like mine," Logan interrupts. "Maybe you won't even notice."

"Yeah, but that was because you weren't looking at your clocks, so you obviously weren't ready for it! I expect Patton and I'll both be counting down the seconds when our time comes," Roman reasons.

"But since they didn't approach me, they must not be watching their clocks either," Logan points out. "You'll have to be very observant and see which person you make eye contact with, or this exact situation might repeat itself, and then we'll only have one chance left to find them before we're completely left in the dark."

"Huh, true..." Roman seems lost in thought for a moment. "Then I'll just have to watch extra carefully when the time comes!"

"I'm sure you'll do great, Roman!" Patton chimes in brightly. "You've got this!"

 

* * *

 

 

Virgil's sitting on the windowsill in his room, looking out of the window at the few fluffy clouds floating by. He strokes Remy's soft black fur. The cat, which is half-asleep and curled up on Virgil's lap, purrs and sinks its claws into the fabric of Virgil's sweatpants. He feels the sharp points scraping his leg, but he doesn't really mind.

"You know, Remy, I've been feeling a bit weird lately," he says to the cat, not taking his eyes off the sky. "I don't really know how to describe it. I guess there's a bit of a...tingly feeling in my gut? Is that weird? Yeah, it is," he answers his own question. "But I don't feel sick, so maybe...maybe it's hormones or whatever? I don't know. As long as it's not a symptom of some deadly disease." He pauses. "Wait, you don't think it  _is_  a disease, do you? I mean I don't know much about this sorta thing, but maybe I should look it up or something? Just in case?"

The cat gives no answer, but he leans over to his desk anyway, careful not to dislodge Remy, and grabs his phone. A quick Google search later, after confirming he isn't suffering symptoms of something deadly, he lays the phone aside without investigating further.

"I'm not gonna die," he informs Remy. "Maybe I'll check what else it could be later. But for now--"

He abruptly stops as the door flies open, causing him to jump and jostle Remy. " _Virgil!_ "

Remy meows a complaint and jumps off Virgil's lap. Virgil looks up to see his mother standing in the doorway. "What?" he asks, annoyed. "And why didn't you knock?"

"You know full well why!" his mother hisses. "I told you to stop talking to that fucking cat! It's _weird_!"

 _Really? This again?_  "Mom, I've told you, it helps with my--" he tries to explain, although he doesn't really think it'll help. And he's right; before he can continue, she cuts him off again.

"I still don't believe you about that! All the kids these days, looking for attention, diagnosing themselves with all these fucking mental illnesses so they can feel special... You don't _have_  anxiety, you're just pretending and have yourself convinced you actually have it! I thought I raised you better than this! And anyway, why the hell would you have anxiety? There's nothing wrong with my parenting, I've always been a great mother to you, and you're doing fine in school. It's probably that fucking phone you're always on, who knows what you get up to all the time. And don't you start blabbering about wanting to see a therapist, I'm not wasting my money on that  _shit_. It's a fraud, all of it!"

Virgil's not looking at her, his gaze instead fixated on the floor.  _Why did I even try to explain it of course she doesn't believe me I'm so fucking stupid--_

"I just want a normal son," she says, now at a normal volume. Virgil still refuses to look at her. He feels slightly sick.

"Why can't you just be normal? Why can't you just have normal friends? Why can't you go outside for once? Why can't you go meet your soulmate?" She breaks off. "Actually fuck that, why can't you have a  _normal fucking amount_  of soulmates?"  _As if that was my idea._  "Just...why are you so  _fucking useless_ , Virgil? I've given you so much, it's the least I could fucking expect of you to be a good son. But no, you had to go and be like...like _this_." She gestures around his room. At the My Chemical Romance posters, at the fidget cubes lying on his desk, at Remy, who is now glaring at her reproachfully. At  _Virgil_.

"I don't even know why I still bother," she mutters to herself. "I don't deserve this shit." She slams the door, leaving Virgil sitting there with tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, feeling utterly defeated.

 _No. Don't cry again_ , he tells himself _. You can't do this every single time. You should be used to this by now._

But he can't stop the tears from spilling out onto his face, dripping down onto his sweatpants.

Remy pads back over, jumps up on the windowsill next to him and rubs up against him, evidently trying to comfort him. But Virgil unsteadily gets to his feet, staggers over to his bed and collapses onto it, now shaking with silent sobs. His mom is right. Of course he's useless.  _Fucking_  useless. She's right, he shouldn't be like this. There's enough other people in school who're proving how normal humans _should_  function. He's just the weird kid who sits in a corner wearing a hoodie and talking to nobody. Fuck, he knows he shouldn't have risked talking to Remy while his mother was home. This always happens, and yet he's still too fucking stupid to predict it. Of course she's going to do this shit again, and of course he's going to end up crying like the useless piece of garbage he is.

He feels a slight weight to his left that tells him Remy's jumped up onto the bed. "Mrrow?"

Virgil just cries harder. He's gasping for air in great gulps now, hiccuping as the sobs still wrench through his body.

He opens his eyes and sees that his hoodie sleeve has ridden up, revealing the familiar coloured numbers on his forearm, with thin white lines going through each one, the skin slightly risen up, although the clocks aren't at all distorted.

He wipes his eyes with the other sleeve and goes to tug it up again, not wanting to look at them any longer than he has to, but he freezes as he realises something's wrong. He focuses properly on the clocks.

The top one - dark blue in neat handwriting -, is no longer ticking down like the other two. Confused, he stares at the numbers for a moment.  _0y 0d 0h 0min 0sec._

Then something clicks in his brain and he realises what that means.

He's already met his first soulmate.

_Fuck._

Well, they didn't try to talk to him, so...

_I was right, they don't want to talk to me. They probably took one look at me and decided I wasn't worth it. They hate me._ _Fuck, this is all my fault._ _Maybe those people in elementary school were right, and I was given three soulmates so they'd at least have each other and didn't have to talk to me. They're probably all together right now, they're glad the dark blue one decided not to approach me, and the other two are going to do the same. And I'll be alone forever, and they're probably better off without me, and-- And now I'm wallowing in self-pity again. I'm pathetic. I--_

"Mrrow." Remy's decided to curl up in the crease of Virgil's body and is purring at him, rubbing himself against him.

Virgil freezes for a moment, then feels his eyes start to leak again as he's overwhelmed with emotions, a mix of gut-wrenching appreciation for his cat and spiralling self-hatred. He strokes Remy's fur and screws his eyes shut, burying his face in the familiar soft sleeves of his hoodie and letting the tears run onto the fabric until it's completely soaked and he has no more tears left to shed.

 

* * *

 

They've stopped at the large pond located near the middle of the park. The sun is reflecting off the surface of the water, burning itself into Logan's retinas. He blinks and looks away, sighing at the bright strip now impairing his vision.  
  
A light breeze ruffles Logan's hair as he turns to look at Roman and Patton instead. Roman's staring off into space, while Patton's looking past him to watch Chewbarka, who's run off to sniff at a group of nearby bushes. The three of them have settled on the grass in the shade of one of the trees surrounding the pond, and after a bit of conversation, have lapsed into comfortable silence.  
  
Logan reflects that it's actually been quite an enjoyable day. And while Patton's constant puns and Roman's tendency to overdramatise everything are nerve-wracking sometimes, he finds that he doesn't actually mind too much.  
  
He hears loud laughter from behind him and turns around to see two children come skipping up to the pond, followed at a short distance by an old woman who Logan assumes must be their grandmother. The children arrive at the water's edge and start cooing at the few ducks and swans peacefully bobbing around on the water. Logan's grateful for the cloud that's formed in front of the sun, because it means he can observe the scene without being blinded by the bright reflections.  
  
The old woman catches up with the children and says something to them that Logan can't make out at this distance. She pulls a bag of what Logan recognises as bread out of her handbag and hands it to the children. They cheer and turn back to the water, one of them ripping open the bag and pulling out several slices. The other whines something in protest and grabs the bag from their sibling, giving one of their blonde pigtails a tug for good measure. The first child yells something and a scuffle breaks out.  
  
The grandmother, who's settled on a nearby bench, looks up and says something in a chiding tone. The children break apart and instead start throwing pieces of bread to the ducks, which by now have formed a small group around them.  
  
"They shouldn't be feeding them bread," Logan mutters, more to himself than to the others. "It's bad for them."  
  
"Wait, really?" He turns to see Patton gazing at him with wide eyes, looking hurt. "It is?"  
  
"Indeed. Bread, especially white, is to ducks what so-called "junk food" is to humans. Too much of it can cause malnutrition and obesity. It can also trigger the development of a condition called Angel Wings, which--" He breaks off, feeling a slight blush rise to his cheeks. "Apologies, it was not my intention to ramble."  
  
"No, go on! What was that about angels?" Patton encourages, looking genuinely curious.  
  
 _Well... This is new._  Usually, people are annoyed with him when he starts rambling about something, but Patton... Maybe he's just pretending, but he actually seems interested in what Logan has to say.  
  
He clears his throat and continues. "Well. Yes. Angel Wings is a condition in waterfowl that causes them to lose their ability to fly, which can, of course, have disastrous consequences. It occurs when..." Logan continues on to give a lengthy explanation of the effects that bread can have on the birds, and when he's finally done, Patton looks very upset.  
  
"Did I cause you distress, Patton?" Logan asks, worried that he might have accidentally touched on a subject the other would rather avoid.  
  
"No, not you, it's just... I used to have a friend when I was younger, Damien. Our moms would take us to this park, and we'd feed the ducks our stale bread. It was so much fun! But now... I didn't know it hurt them like that!" He looks very put out.  
  
"Why's it called Angel Wings, anyway?" Roman asks. "That's such a pretty name for something that's...well,  _not_."  
  
"Well, the condition makes the birds' feathers stick out in a fan-like shape, which I assume reminded the person who named it of common depictions of angels' wings."  
  
"Oh." Roman frowns and falls silent again.  
  
"My sister and I used to feed the ducks in this park too," Logan continues, now directing his words at Patton again. "Our father had told us about all this, so we used to bring other things. Frozen peas, for example, are a healthier alternative."  
  
Patton perks up. "You have a sister?"  
  
"I do. She is older than me by five years, meaning she has already left for college, but we got along very well, and are still on objectively good terms."  
  
"Cool! I don't have siblings, but Dee - that's what we used to call Damien - was like a brother to me. Only then his parents decided to move away when we were in second grade, and I haven't seen him since." Patton stares off into space for a second, but then he turns around to look at Roman. "What about you? Do you have any siblings?"  
  
Roman seems reluctant to answer. "Well, I... Yeah. I have a twin brother. His name is Remus."  
  
"Oh, you have a twin? That's so cool!" Patton exclaims. "Do you have secret twin telepathy? Or a secret language? Or--"  
  
"No," Roman says shortly. Logan notices his relaxed expression has vanished, and he looks like he's regretting his decision to tell them about his brother.  
  
"Oh... Do you get along, at least?"  
  
"No. He's the most horrible person I know."  
  
"Oh, come on, he can't be that bad. You're brothers! You--"  
  
" _He is_ ," Roman snaps. "I don't want to talk about it."  
  
Patton falters. "But--"  
  
"I  _said_ , I don't want to talk about it!" Abruptly, Roman gets to his feet. "I should go."  
  
"No, Roman, wait!" Patton says desperately, but it's too late. Roman's already taken off, in the opposite direction of where they came from.  
  
Logan looks at Patton, who seems completely shell-shocked. "Patton, are you--"  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Patton says, his voice breaking. "Absolutely great! Amazing! Just wonderful!"  
  
"That is clearly a falsehood. You--"  
  
"I need to go," Patton interrupts, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. "Chewbarka, come here!"  
  
The dog comes bounding up to him. Patton gets to his feet and attaches the lead to her collar. "Bye, Logan. See-- see you around." He runs off in the direction of the park gates, and Logan hears a small sob escape.  
  
Logan's left sitting on the grass. The sky's now been completely obscured with grey clouds, and he watches Patton disappear over the crest of a hill just as the rain begins to fall.  
  
 _How could this have all gone so wrong?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come yell at me on tumblr @echo-of-words

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr! @echo-of-words  
> 


End file.
